Saturday, October 27, 2012

xxxxi.

It is a gift--
       that one holds up to the lamplight
carries about, leaves under the window
sticks in a pocket, drops under the desk
                 leaves atop the sheets, sticks
in a shoe
                 --sits accusing upon the sill
                   recognition.

It captures the sunlight--
            translucent and solid
time--how do I
thank you?





         
         




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